[ Would having to cull these false-Ascians break his heart? Emet-Selch does not think so. To return them to the aetherial sea were it necessary would be nothing more complex than doing his duty. He might regret the necessity for efficiency's sake, and for Viktor's but he does not think the heartache and regret would last. That, he supposes, is part of the problem. He ought to do more than regret that culling them would make his life more difficult ultimately, but that is not a conversation he wishes to have with Viktor at any point, at all, ever.
Blessedly, he's saved from having to elaborate - or weave a few creative truths, realistically, when Viktor starts laughing, the sight, the sound snapping Emet-Selch out of the frustrating train of thought. ]
Please. I ceased leering at least a century or two into existence. I...assess and appreciate. [ Emet-Selch snaps idly at the wagging finger, no real effort to try and catch it between his teeth, too distracted with Viktor sloshing water as he glides closer, neither of them making any real effort to progress the whole bathing endeavor. Emet-Selch cannot bring himself to feel regret about that, either. His nose wrinkles at the accusation of being a pervert - he is very old, and has no defense there. ]
More often than not. [ No guilt about culling, but in this moment the most irritating sense of embarrassment blooms. Were he a weaker man he would squirm. As it is, Emet-Selch keeps his gaze steadily on Viktor's expression. Embarrassment can be wielded like any other tool in his arsenal and Viktor is far more susceptible to Emet-Selch wielding the truth like a scalpel, even if it cuts both ways. ] Do not misunderstand. I've certainly had...untoward thoughts about you and those did, occasionally, take place in the bath. But more often than not, we simply bathed. Lounged. Indulged.
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Blessedly, he's saved from having to elaborate - or weave a few creative truths, realistically, when Viktor starts laughing, the sight, the sound snapping Emet-Selch out of the frustrating train of thought. ]
Please. I ceased leering at least a century or two into existence. I...assess and appreciate. [ Emet-Selch snaps idly at the wagging finger, no real effort to try and catch it between his teeth, too distracted with Viktor sloshing water as he glides closer, neither of them making any real effort to progress the whole bathing endeavor. Emet-Selch cannot bring himself to feel regret about that, either. His nose wrinkles at the accusation of being a pervert - he is very old, and has no defense there. ]
More often than not. [ No guilt about culling, but in this moment the most irritating sense of embarrassment blooms. Were he a weaker man he would squirm. As it is, Emet-Selch keeps his gaze steadily on Viktor's expression. Embarrassment can be wielded like any other tool in his arsenal and Viktor is far more susceptible to Emet-Selch wielding the truth like a scalpel, even if it cuts both ways. ] Do not misunderstand. I've certainly had...untoward thoughts about you and those did, occasionally, take place in the bath. But more often than not, we simply bathed. Lounged. Indulged.